Panic
by Fear0001
Summary: Ezra has recently caught a contagious disease which affects parts of the brain. Police, Kanan Jarrus decides to take the young pick-pocket under his wing, knowing nothing of his condition. Will it end happily ever after for Kanan or Ezra, or will Ezra suffer before that is possible? Rated T for mention of blood, panic-attacks and seizures. Shouldnt be two bad though. Oneshot.
1. Chapter 1

**I curl my fingers around the small gold credit and hold my hand close to my chest. I walk blindly down the street, bumping into random strangers and hurriedly muttering apologies to them. I self-consciously rub my left arm and shudder, walking faster, but attempting to avoid passers-by. They don't and they shouldn't know... I remind myself and exhale deeply, slipping through an alleyway and behind a battered fence before plopping down onto the ground.**

 **Pulling my left sleeve up, I close my eyes and begin fingering my forearm. Suddenly I feel something dip and then rise, like a hole, but then feel thick liquid oozing out of it and my eyes snap open. I retch, wrinkling my nose up and looking away, feeling completely sickened by what I've just saw. Just below my wrist on my left arm is a visible hole, about two centimetres long. It goes all the way down to my bone. And if that wasn't enough, flowing out of it is a thick black substance which is streaming down my arm. I retch again before pushing my sleeve down and leaning against the wall behind me, closing my eyes and breathing in heavily. So I'm infected with a contagious disease.** _ **The**_ **disease...**

 **I shake my head and bite my lip. How is this possible? Could it have been carried? By food perhaps? Maybe in the air? I shake my head again and raise my hand to my temple. How can this be happening?**

 **And then suddenly, out of the blue, an aching spasm hits me and I feel a wave of nausea and dizziness. I'm about to close my eyes, but I bang them open again. No, no, no, no, no. No. These are symptoms of the disease, I know it! Dizziness, nausea, spasms... Soon, for the emotionally harmed people (about two percent of the current population) there would have panic attacks, seizures, breakdowns and fits, in addition to stress and depression. I have been warned about this, especially as my broken past may class as "emotionally harmed."**

 **I shake my head again and scramble to my feet, putting on the short, sideways smile which I use to charm shopkeepers. I push the thought of the disease out of my head and cover up the mark, strolling down the busy street, gently humming to myself. Who to pickpocket today? Not a shop owner, that would attract too much attention... And suddenly I snap my fingers at my ingeniousness and turn around to the railway stations, remembering to stay hidden behind a stack of boxes. Rubbing my hands together, I glance up at the clock and station myself, ready to run.**

 **A tall man with a ponytail at the back of his head and a yellow-green top under his uniform steps out from the street, ready for his patrols. He slips his wallet into his pocket, and then some loose money, about twenty pounds, into the same pocket. I breathe deeply and run.**

 **My hand goes into the pocket and out, and the man stares at me with disgust, administering what I've just done. I laugh, sticking my tongue out childishly and chortle. This is so easy. And then, suddenly, completely unexpectedly, I feel a hand on my shoulder and the man is pulling me back. I stare up at him lost for words. Okay, I've been caught before, but never by the police! I crumple the money in my hand and shove it into my pocket, breathing heavily. My head feels dizzy and I sway slightly.**

" **Hey kid, are you going to give the money back or not?" I can vaguely hear the police shouting in my ear, but my stomach heaves and my airways feel as though they are completely trapped. I gasp for air, gagging, feeling nauseous. I can see the man's face, blurred by dizziness, staring at me with horror. I attempt to breathe again, but choke. The last thing I hear is the wail of the ambulance before I pass out.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Ok viewers, I'm soo sorry for this huge no-update thing, but I've literally had a crazy writers block. Even this chapter isn't great, but I thought that I couldn't just risk my PM burst, so I thought so hard and came up with this. Please, if you don't like it, don't send me a hate comment. I've run out of ideas, and any ideas you guys have, I'll turn it into something great, I just really do need ideas. Thx.**

 **P.s- Disclaimer! I don't own Star Wars rebels, as much as I want to.**

 **Kanan POV**

"He might not make it."

The nurse's words echo in my ears. Her sad expression, her grave voice, her teary eyes- had said it all. They said that they were giving him expert treatment, but his condition was critical. He was recovering from pneumonia, anorexia and trauma, and had just had a fit and a seizure combined together, with disastrous results. So, he might not make it.

I don't even know who he is. In the blind moment when he stole my money, I didn't even see his face, but now, in the hospital, in the middle of the room with pipes going to his arms and an oxygen mask covering the majority of his face, I can see, even unconscious, his face bares the evidence of past troubles, his cheeks are ghostly pale and thin, and his hair is dirty, messy and midnight blue. He looks so young, twelve, maybe? Probably younger. And yet he looks strangely familiar...

I click my fingers. He is the young pickpocket, the thief, the troublemaker with attitude. Con artist, sarcastic and potentially dangerous. Like hell he is. I think raising an eyebrow.

 **Ezra's POV**

When I wake up a feel the same, choking feeling as before, as though my airways are blocked and everything around me looks hazy. Sat beside me is the police who I attempted to steal from and I feel my heart rate pick up. What's he here for? To arrest me? I open my eyes seeing him properly, and frown slightly. He looks worried, upset, and stares at me with intense turquoise eyes. Suddenly I am overcome by a violent coughing fit and I vomit out blood again. The police stares at me and gets up, hitting a button my bed, which calls about a dozen men in white coats towards me. Somewhere, in the back of my mind I feel as though I can recognize them.

Doctors. These are doctors Ezra, remember?

And then suddenly I'm seven again, doctors were one of the first people I stole from. I was hungry, starving in fact. I hadn't eaten in days, weeks, months, and I could feel myself getting smaller and smaller. No one took pity on me, no wanted to have anything to do with the scrawny, underfed kid at the side of the street. I was slowly dying, decomposing, rotting away, and if the police found me I'd probably be fostered. I was later. I was caught by the doctors, yes, they pitied me. They pitied me, and I hated them. My first and last foster family, the nightmare of my life. Because of them.

Even in my position, I don't want them to touch me; I've coped with worse, much worse, before.

And that's when I hear someone whispering my name. Someone frighteningly familiar. I tilt my head slightly and gasp.


	3. Chapter 3- Coma

**Hello Star Wars fans! I can't believe how many people followed, fave'd and reviewed chapter two in like, 3 days! Thank you everyone, you are so great!**

 **Emilybridger, you gave me this idea, so thank you so much, I thought it was so amazing, the second I read it I got to work on this chapter.**

 **And thanks to everyone who gave me support and ideas, I loved it all! So you all know the drill, please review, follow, fave and please, please, please request, if you want another chapter this month. I would do a special mention for the reviews that really shone, but my fingers are hurting from typing non-stop, so if you want a special mention, also review- and no hate comments please, because they will get a very terrible mention (Not that I think that any of you guys would, just making sure ).**

 **So now, let's get on with the chapter!**

 **Ezra's POV**

It's her. The one who threw me out, the one who slapped me if I burned her food, the one who made me sleep in the cold, dark, dingy room. The reason I'm a junior criminal, the reason I had to live on the streets to survive.

My old Foster mom.

My pupils narrow in shock. I see her, her eyes narrow, her smile stretching across her cracked lips, her claw like hand on my shoulder. We called her The Seventh Sister. My breathing gets worse, much worse and everything looks strange and soft. Everything but her. Awful chocking noises emerge from my throat, and the only words I can say in my strangled, petrified voice is "It's her, It's her..." I see the police, amidst my strange sight, I see the look of confusion etched upon his face, mingling with horror and anguish, and I thrash out with my arms and legs, trying to get her away from me, trying to hurt her, trying to kill her. Trying to get my revenge. The heart monitor behind me wails as I dig my fingernails into her face, as doctors and the police try to tear her away from me.

And then the needle goes in and then out, before everything goes black.

 **Kanan's POV**

I suddenly see him transform from the small, scared teen to the monster I've been warned about, the thief, the pickpocket, the con-artist he is advertised as. But did I see something before the needle went in? Something, yes, definitely. Maybe I wasn't looking correctly, maybe it was just a figure of my imagination, but I could have sworn that I saw a flicker of recognition in his eyes. Recognition, followed by fear.

 **Random Doctors POV**

I run some more tests on him, the kid, Dev Morgan. But even before looking at the data sheet, I can tell something is wrong. I see something like pain wash over his face before it turns completely blank, and my heart skips a beat. Biting my lip I look at the sheet and I gasp in horror.

Amnesia.

Depression.

Trauma.

Anorexia.

At the top of the list. I close my eyes before consulting with the police, Kanan Jarrus.

 **Kanan's POV**

"What do you mean he won't remember anything?!" I exclaim in disbelief, snatching the data from the doctors hand, all the colour draining from my face. "And what do you mean he's in a coma?!"

 **YASSSS! Another cliffhanger! Oh, and I almost forgot to mention-**

 **Disclaimer! I don't own Star Wars Rebels, even though I want to! I only own my OC's.**


	4. Fostered

**Hi rebels! I'm back! I know your all thinking, Fear, in thought you were dead! But trust me I have an excuse. I have just finished school exams and its school break, so finally, I get to update! Hopefully this chapter is good, it's a bit longer than the last one. I just want to say to all of you, thank you sooooo much, for all the support and help, and the amazing reviews! I've just hit 2000 views! Ok, rant over, let's just get on with the chapter!**

 **Kanan**

"Mr. Jarrus?" I turn to see an elderly nurse beside me.

"Yeah?" I ask, frowning at the grave expression on her face. What's happened?

"Th-the child, he's...he's gone." I gasp. What? Gone?

"What do you mean?" I ask urgently. "Is he awake?" She nods.

"Yes, but he's gone. We went out for a few minutes, came back in and he was gone." I frown again. Where could he be?

 **Ezra**

I rub my wrist carefully where the needles had pierced me and quietly crawl through the air vent. Below me, I can hear voices and perk my ears up to listen. "We have to go find him. He must still be inside the building." It's the police officer. The cowboy officer who I tried to steal from. I feel a lump in my throat. Did I really dare to do that? Did I really take his money and try to run away with it? I rub my other wrist, the one with the small hole and I feel dizzy. Have the doctors found out about my position? Does the police know that I'm a street rat, a runaway from home? So many questions...

I raise my finger to my temple and try to focus before moving again, with as much care as possible, an idea unravelling in my brain. And then suddenly it hits me. A false identity! Then the police would never know who I am, and I will never be forced to return to my parents. Well...

Foster parents. The seventh sister and the fifth brother. The worst part of my existence, the reason my life has become a living nightmare. The torture, the abuse... the angst, the pain, the suffering, the lies, the panic...

Panic. Swarmed in fear and panic. So many times I begged for forgiveness, for them to stop the cutting, but never. Never: I panicked. I pull open the small clasp of the air vent and jump out-

-Right into the arms of the officer. I retch and spit out a spray of blood on the floor and lean my head against his shoulder. "Whoa." He says. "Let's take you back to your room." I sigh dramatically as he carry's me gently to the ward.

 **Kanan**

"Well doctor?" He says in a cocky voice. "All clear, as expected, I suppose?" The doctor sighs, but nods, though his face is grave. I frown. The doctor wouldn't lie. I see the scans myself, and am surprised to see perfect results. But then where had all the blood come from? Was it just side-effects from the coma? The kid jumps off the bed and heads for the door, but I grab his thin wrist and hold him back. "Where do you think you're going?" I demand. He shrinks down against the wall and stares at me with huge eyes. "N-nowhere, I was... I was just..." I roll my eyes. "What your name, kid?" I ask him. "Because we need to talk."

"Dev." He says. "Dev Morgan."

 **Ezra**

I stare at the police open-mouthed. No no no. This is not happening. I close my eyes and put my face in my hands. Fostered? By him, the police who I stole from? How would this relationship ever work? I remember with a pang again, the seventh sister and feel tears swelling in my eyes. This can't be real... I can't go through that again. Especially not now. Not with the disease. Not with my condition. I moan slowly, as though in pain and look up. "You can't foster me!" I exclaim. "I'm a criminal! I need to be arrested!" the police laughs. "Yea, you're a criminal and I'm Bobba Fett from the star wars movies. You and me both." I raise an eyebrow.

"I'm not going anywhere." I say in a chocked voice. "Just take me back where you found me and go. Just pretend we never met and you can go on being an officer and doing your patrols without a kid to look after. Go on." Kanan sighs and puts a hand on my shoulder. I flinch and he frowns, but he doesn't say anything. Suddenly the doctor who tended to me earlier comes in, biting his lip.

"Sir, we have just discovered a serious threat. I think you should come with me." Kanan looks worried and I feel my stomach tie itself into a knot as I'm left in the room alone.

 **Kanan**

"I am sorry to inform you that Dev has got some problems. Firstly, we have discovered some serious past trauma. We think he has got PTSD. But that's not the worst part. The worst part is, we have inspected the wounds on his body and we expect that he has been severely abused at home. Some of them are whip and knife marks. This is a huge issue. This will also cause some problems. I suggest you don't attempt to show him any affection by touching him. Not until he has gained your trust, anyway. He might take it the wrong way." I breathe in heavily. Child abuse. I should have expected as much. And PTSD?

I make it a promise to myself that I will help Dev as much as I can. And the seventh sister? She should be sent to jail.

 **Yay! Remember, if there's anything that you would particularly like to see, just PM me! and remember to review, fave and follow, because there's fluff to come in the next chapter!**


	5. Important!

**Hi rebels! I'm sorry to say that this isn't a new "Panic" chapter. Now, the thing is, i can't update because I want a public vote about my next chapter/fic... whatever you guys want! Thats on my poll, so if you could check it out it'd be a huge help, and thank you to those who have already voted, it's been very helpful. Now, depending on how many votes and how fast i get them will depend on whether I update this month or not XD**

 **I need a minimum of 20 votes to make it fair, and votes close, at the latest 1 july**

 **thank you!**

 **-Fear**


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